


I want you to draw me

by ShadowSelene (Shadowdianne)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 07:19:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14732426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowdianne/pseuds/ShadowSelene
Summary: Could you write the Titanic drawing scene SQ style?Asked by anon via tumblr





	I want you to draw me

_“Wearing only this.”_

The weight of the soft robe against her skin was almost non-existent and yet, as Regina padded into the room, breathing slightly more labored than what she would have wanted to admit, the touch of the silky cloth felt ten times heavier than it was. Every crease of the fabric felt like biting into her skin and as she stared at Emma, eyelids heavy and heart beating wildly on her chest, she could feel the cold touch of the gem on her plexus, the chain resting on her collarbones.

Leaning on the doorframe, she played with the clothing as she saw how Emma fumbled a little with her pencil, green eyes widened, taking her in. It was those eyes, she thought as she took another step inside the room, and not the soft fire that jumped away on the small burner what made her feel dizzyingly hot for a second, the rush running up and down her back and chest, coiling on the later. She was happy that all the diction classes seemed to pay it off as her voice didn’t tremble once she spoke, the room feeling smaller now as she took on the closeness of the sofa in contrast to Emma’s chair, on how the blonde’s knees would truly be almost touching her own once she seated -reclined? - into the cushions.

She had been the one to ask, however, and she didn’t have any intention on backing away now. Not as Emma kept eyeing her, gaping and devoid of any of her usual cockiness.

“Last thing I need is another portrait looking like a porcelain doll.” She hated those, hated the way they made her look, they made her feel. Handing Emma one single coin she smirked in a way, she hoped, was close enough to one of those French girls, to those who were truly painted. “As a paying customer, - and how Mother would loathe this-, I expect to get what I want.”

Her hands traveled up again, the fabric opening for a moment before she reached for the lapels. Emma’s eyes were still glued to her, hands on her knees and just the barest glimpse of a smile illuminating her features that shone gold on the dim light of the room. She, Regina thought, was gorgeous.

And, as the robe fell and Emma swallowed following every single of it as it caressed her now completely naked skin Regina felt herself being that as well. Gorgeous in a daring way, in a way Mother would never approve. She touched her skin for a moment, fingertips ghosting over her flesh as Emma’s eyes traveled up and down, clutching her papers closer to her.

She wanted to kiss her. She wanted to ask her to do it. The thought came with such force that Regina parted her lips, breathless. She knew what she wanted, she thought, how to do it, however, was a very different thing.

She followed Emma’s request, leaning back on the couch with the ticking clock of the room sounding incredibly loud all of a sudden, the jewel at her neck less cold each second it passed by. She saw Emma moving her mouth, gasping out a “good” that made her want to grin as she arched her back, just slightly, just enough, while raising her arms, fighting hard against the sudden need to cover herself, to keep herself contained.

The idea, however, was out of her mind as Emma asked her to reposition her arms. A little moment that made her feel at ease, bringing her back to when she had smiled at her that boyish smile with spit on her lips and gold freckles on her eyes that had made everything spin. She was with Emma, she thought, cocking her hip, moving her hands. She wanted to look, to be, someone else than the prissy socialite everyone around her thought her to be. She wanted to be more and as she repositioned she saw a glimpse on that on the way Emma’s hand floated over the paper, drinking on her posture before the grazing of the graphite against the white surface rivaled the ticking clock.

“So serious.” She joked, eliciting a soft giggle from the other woman.

After that, everything felt as if happening inside a bubble, one in where time stretched and halted, not seeming to ever pass as Emma’s graphite took all of her, green eyes halfway obscured by blonde tresses Regina had the desire to secure behind the blonde’s ears, to touch and feel beneath her fingertips. She could feel the weight of the stone against her skin, not so flushed anymore, just contently warm, but it didn’t stifle her as she had done before.

A woman, she thought, she was her own woman and as such, she felt alive, on flames as those seconds stretched, light dimming slowly, softly, as Emma drew her.


End file.
